


Hallmarks of Love

by Casstea



Series: 10 Memories [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluffy Moments, Love, M/M, Sappy as hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 16:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3943252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casstea/pseuds/Casstea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were 10 memories that Q always picked upon whenever he needed to remind himself of how much James loved him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hallmarks of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Kelli and Rum for reading over this one :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own James Bond, this is written for fun and not for profit.

The first was their first kiss. It was sloppy, full of lust and passion, mixed in with the rain that cascaded from the heavens and doused them both thoroughly. It was the memory of the cool metal of James’ car pressing into Q’s back that made his stomach tingle, as James slid his arm around the back of Q’s neck to pull him up for another kiss.

 It was a memory of beginnings, a memory of what _had been_ before that moment, and what _was to come_ afterwards. It was that shared glance between them, just before their lips touched, an understanding that they were standing at the edge of a cliff and ready to jump into the unknown.

x-x-x

The second memory was of sunlight that danced through the morning window after James and Q had had sex for the first time.

Now it wasn’t that the sex wasn’t good (it had been, and still was, brilliant), but this memory was more important than sex because Q had woken up before James. He had watched the morning sunlight creep up the bed, as he lay entangled in James’ sleeping arms, picking out every curve and angle of James’ body that the sunlight touched.

It was a memory made up of small smiles and heartfelt glances, a memory that spoke of the deeper love which was to blossom.

x-x-x

Third memory was _of_ sex, specifically the time when James paused his kissing and fondling and stared into Q’s eyes with an intense stare. Q gazed up, expectantly, chest heaving with love and breathlessness.

A silence filled the room, heavy and pungent with expectation and laced with the sharp smell of desire.

“Q,” James whispered.

“Yes?” Q asked.

“Love you,” James said.

Q remembered his face breaking out into a smile, entangling his arms around James and pulling the other man close onto him. Their movements were not of young love, but of raging desire, and both of them touched and kissed the other until they orgasmed.

x-x-x

The fourth memory was of smiles.

It was a moment when Q made James _properly_ laugh after a hard mission. The moment when the ice case exterior of 007 fell away to reveal James Bond, a broken but brave human whose body was still trying to recover from the battering it had taken at the Southampton Docks. Q would watch with an expert eye as James melted into the laughter, his whole body shaking as Q regaled him with more stories of the office Christmas party.

James’ laughter was the balm to Q’s heart. It had been lonely over Christmas, but at least the two of them could see in the New Year with one another.

x-x-x

The fifth memory was of apologies.

It was hardest to apologise for something that he had done wrong, because Q _hated_ being wrong. He hated making mistakes, and the logical fact that mistakes were all part of the natural learning process did not help this at all.

James, however, knew when he was beaten. He was proud, but he was an agent and had seen things go wrong in the field. He solved problems, his reaction was to try and find a _solution._

“I’m sorry,” Q said, as James pulled him into an embrace, “I didn’t mean to lash out at you, it wasn’t fair.”

“I know,” James replied, “I know.”

x-x-x

The sixth memory was of hot kisses against the hallway wall.

James’ weight pressed into him, as Q moaned with need. James kissed Q’s neck whilst his hands wandered down Q’s torso and slid inside his trousers.

It was a memory of passion, laced with vivid touches and hard kisses. Q remembered James pressing hard against Q’s lips, sliding his tongue along the other’s mouth as his fingers flicked and caressed Q into a state of ecstasy. It was a memory of love, the rawest kind of love, base and primal that drove them towards the sofa because the bedroom was simply too far away.

x-x-x

The seventh memory was a _lack_ of memory, a culmination of moments where James was away and Q sat in the flat, alone.

It wasn’t like the other memories because it reminded Q of what he _had_ when it wasn’t there. He noticed the quietness that settled into the flat in James’ absence. There was the silence of the disused coffee maker in the corner of the kitchen crept across the kitchen whenever Q made tea. There was the quietness in the mornings when Q woke up alone to a cold bed and an empty flat.

It was a memory that reminded Q to be thankful for what he _did_ have when James was home.

x-x-x

The eight memory was of dreams of the future, hushed whispers spoken at the small hours of the morning.

It was talk of possibilities, of merging lives, and of _happiness._ It was the way James’ eyes would light up when they talked about the days that they could have outside of MI6, those weekends when James was home and Q wasn’t tied to the bunkers in Q branch. It was the way Q’s hear beat faster whenever they discussed how they would make _their_ normal, how they would carve out their space in the world just for them.

It was a future that was laced with uncertainty, but it was a future that was _possible._ For the first time in his life, Q felt like it was a future where he could be happy.

Truly, unequivocally, happy.

x-x-x

The ninth memory was of warm tea served on cold winter mornings, where James and Q would sit on the sofa and just enjoy each other’s company.

It certainly wasn’t as exciting as the memories of sex, or as important as those discussions of the future, but it was a memory of the normal moments. Those moments which were generally forgotten amongst busy to-do lists and hectic days. These were the moments that caught Q at unawares, the moments where he would watch James humming as he tried to solve the crossword puzzle on the back of the Times in a new personal best  and realise just how much he loved James.

Those moments made Q smile, smile for what he had _right now._ Not of the future, but of the present, and the precious time that lay between every heartbeat.

x-x-x

The tenth memory was of bent knees and rings. It was of Q trying not to cry (but he did anyway) and James cracking a joke that his knee might seize up because he was old.

It was of a moment of realisation, that no matter what troubles Q would face in his life, that he would always have someone by his side. It was a memory of gratefulness, for all that James and he had achieved together, and a memory of excitement for the future they had discussed at the small hours of the moment. It was a memory of feelings that were more powerful than the lust of sex, more powerful than even an apology.

It was an acceptance. That he, Q, would accept James just as he was, and know that James would accept Q in return. It was an acknowledgement of human weakness, it was a promise for all things yet untold.

It was a moment of pure love, and the memory Q could define as that memory where _everything_ changed.

And it changed for the better. For the immeasurable, unquantifiable better.


End file.
